and ne'er stops, and says, 'Hunh, hunh, minn!' Till that-air
feller gits the jerks, lak a man when the gospel hits him.
Then the jerks is gone, and him a-standen, stiffer'n a man on
the coolen hoard, and eyes a-stare-en lak a-fore the pennies is
put. He stands thar, how long hit ain't no tellen, and them
dance-en and singen, and hit come-en on more Indians, too,
and them a-fall-en. They lays on the ground thar, lak dead,
and broad daylight, maybe. And the singen and dance-en
"But that was in 'ninety-one, when I was come-en back,
not when I was a-goen. A-goen, I was headed west, lak I
said, lak a man them days when hit come on him to be
move-en. I was down in Santa Fe and seen hit, but I ne'er
" I come into the mountains. Them mountains wasn't lak
no mountains you e'er seen. Nor me. Not lake them hills
in Arkansas or in this-here country in Kentucky. That-air
country was open and high, and the mountains rise-en outer
hit. Hit was June when I come in the high country, and
they was flowers ever whar. I ne'er seen sich. Greasewood
with blooms plumb gold, and little flowers on the ground.
And the cactus, flowers a-bloomen fer as a man's sight. But
no smell. Put yore nose to hit, but they ain't no smell, fer all
" I went on to the high mountains. Cedars and juniper I
come to, but scrub and not fitten fer nuthen. Then up higher,
pinons, then oak but hit scrub. Then high up in them moun-
tains, the big pines standen, and no man's e'er laid axe.
Look down and the land was all tore up down below, ever
which way, tore up and a-layen on end. And the ground
with colours lak the sky at sun. Look up, and snow was still
layen when I come, and the sun white on hit, lak on cloud-
tops in summer. The wind come down off'n the snow, cold
to yore face and the sun shine-en.
" I come in that-air country, and ne'er ast no man the way.
Outer Santa Fe I seen folks a-goen and come-en, then they
wasn't none to speak on. In the high country I seen Indians